Sixty hearts blue 4

Lisabeth stared at her reflection, her sad eyes brimming with unshed tears. She barely ate, barely slept—ever since she left Stephen's house, it felt like a piece of her had been ripped away. He had lied to her. Claimed he was busy, yet left moments later. And for who? The girl who had his heart.

The thought sliced through her, and a tear slipped free. She wiped it away, blinking fast.

"Not again." Daniella's voice cut through the room as she stepped inside, catching Lisa's tear-streaked face in the mirror. She sighed, shutting the door.

She set a glass of wine on the dressing table and studied her friend. "You know you're only hurting yourself, right?"

Lisabeth sniffled, avoiding her gaze. "You wouldn't understand," she muttered. "Loving someone who doesn't love you back."

Daniella rolled her eyes, exasperated. "Have a drink. It'll help." She rested a hand on Lisa's shoulder.

Lisa shook her head. She didn't want wine. She wanted Daniella to tell her Stephen would realize how much she loved him. That he'd come back. "I don't want to." Her voice cracked.

Daniella gave up and took a sip herself, knowing Lisa wouldn't budge. She leaned against the dresser. "Then stop torturing yourself and go talk to him. Pour your heart out instead of sitting here wasting time."

"I can't." Lisa's fingers clenched in her lap. "He told me he has a girlfriend."

Daniella swirled the wine in her glass. "She's lucky," she admitted, then glanced at Lisa. "Is she pretty?"

Lisa scoffed. "I don't care." But the image of Stephen with her—the way he held her—burned in her mind.

Daniella shrugged and perched on the bed. "Call Michael."

Lisa frowned. "Why?"

"He's the only one who knows where Stephen is. Find out where he is and go to him."

Lisa hesitated. "I don't need to. He's probably at home or work."

Daniella arched a brow. "Are you sure? If he's home, say you came to see his grandmother. Use it as an excuse."

Lisa pressed her lips together. It wasn't a bad idea. "I could just call him."

Daniella smirked. "And will he pick up?"

Lisa's silence was answer enough.

Daniella sighed. "Just call Michael."

Lisa hesitated, then reached for her phone. She dialed, put it on speaker.

Michael answered after a few rings. "What's up, Lisa?"

Lisa threw Daniella a quick glance before replying, "Hey, everything's cool. Are you with Stephen? I tried calling, but he's not picking up."

Daniella smirked at the lie.

Michael's voice came through, mixed with the hum of traffic. "No, I was at his place an hour ago, but he wasn't there. Tried calling, too. No answer."

Lisa's heart clenched. "Do you know where he is? Maybe work?"

A beat of silence. Then, "He's with Roselle." Michael's tone was matter-of-fact. "Probably ignoring me like always. Figures I'm just calling to mess with him."

Lisa felt her stomach twist. Roselle.

Michael sighed. "Anyway, I gotta go. Driving."

The call ended.

Lisa sat there, frozen, as the ache in her chest deepened.

Daniella studied her carefully. "Lisa, you shouldn't have gone to London," she murmured.

Lisa turned, her voice hollow. "I could've studied here."

Daniella shook her head. "You did what was best for you."

"My dad would've given me a job anyway."

Daniella sighed. "Stephen didn't like you then. Staying wouldn't have changed that."

Lisa's hands curled into fists. "But he wasn't with anyone back then. Now he is, and it's driving me crazy." She pushed to her feet, her heart pounding. "I love him, Daniella. I can't stop thinking about him. We're meant to be."

Daniella crossed her legs, choosing her next words carefully. "Don't you think you're obsessing? Look at you—any guy would kill for a chance with you."

Lisa met her gaze, unflinching. "I am obsessed with him. I have been from the start."

Daniella hesitated, then bit her lip. "Then call him."

Lisa's brows furrowed.

"Tell him your uncle passed away this morning," Daniella suggested. "Make him want to comfort you."

Lisa gaped. "What?"

Daniella waved a hand. "We have plenty of uncles. What about the ones on your mom's side?"

Lisa frowned. "Three. And they're all fine."

Daniella leaned back, resting her palms on the bed. "Do you want to talk to him or not?"

Lisa wavered, her fingers tightening around her phone.

Daniella smirked. "Then call him. Tell him your favorite uncle died, and you feel like you might, too."

Lisa narrowed her eyes. "I am not saying I'm going to die."

Daniella rolled her eyes. "Fine. But Michael said he's with his girlfriend."

Lisa's heart sank.

Daniella shrugged. "Who cares? You deserve him more."

Lisa hesitated, then nodded slowly.

"Go on," Daniella urged.

Lisa took a shaky breath. Then, without another thought, she dialed Stephen's number.

Stephen had rushed over the moment Roselle called, her voice laced with urgency. Now, sitting beside her on the couch, he searched her face, trying to understand the sadness clouding her usual warmth.

"What's wrong, Roselle?" His voice was soft, coaxing.

She folded her arms, refusing to meet his gaze. Stephen ignored the buzzing of his phone. Right now, she was all that mattered.

"My Rose," he tried again, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

Roselle clenched her jaw, her eyes fixed on the clay vase by the coffee table. If she looked at him now, she'd melt. "Do you really want to know?"

Stephen leaned in, his concern deepening. "Of course."

Earlier, Gina had called with news that sent Roselle's emotions spiraling. A girl—tall, curvy, beautiful—had been spotted with Stephen at a bookstore. Too close. Too familiar. It haunted her. She had to ask.

"Who is she?" Her voice was barely above a whisper.

Stephen frowned. "Who?"

"The girl at the bookstore," she pressed, finally meeting his eyes. "Tall, curvy… beautiful." She was repeating exactly what Gina had told her. "She was standing so close. People thought you were a couple."

His confusion melted into a quiet chuckle. "That's why you're upset?" He touched her cheek. "I thought something serious had happened."

"It is serious," she said, her jealousy rising.

"Lisabeth," he answered simply. "We went to school together."

Roselle's frown deepened. "She called you that day when we were together."

Stephen nodded. "Yeah."

"Did you take her there?" The words tasted bitter on her tongue.

"No. We ran into each other," he assured her. "How did you find out?"

"Gina called. She thought you two were dating." Her voice softened as she stretched her legs across his lap, allowing him to hold them.

Stephen sighed, shaking his head. Gina. Of course.

Roselle hesitated before speaking again. "I'm leaving next week."

He stilled. They both knew this day was coming, but neither wanted to face it.

"I know," he murmured.

She traced his cheek. "How's your grandma?"

"She's better." His phone buzzed again, and he glanced at the screen. Unknown number.

"Is it her?" Roselle asked.

Stephen shrugged. "I don't know."

"Answer it."

"I don't want to." Instead, he leaned in, capturing her lips in a slow, lingering kiss.

The phone rang again.

Roselle pulled away. "It's fine." A lie.

Reluctantly, Stephen answered.

"Hey, Steph." A soft, sorrowful voice. "It's Lisa."

His grip on the phone tightened. "What's wrong?"

Lisa hesitated, glancing at Danielle before taking a shaky breath. "My uncle passed away this morning," she said, voice breaking. "I really need someone to talk to."

Stephen exhaled. "I'm sorry, but I can't talk right now."

Lisa expected the dismissal, but it still hurt. "Why? Are you at work?"

He looked at Roselle, then kissed the lips he couldn't get enough of. "I'm with my girlfriend." His voice was firm.

Lisa swallowed hard. "Oh. Okay. I thought maybe—"

"Sorry," he cut in, ending the call.

Roselle watched him. "What are you apologizing for?"

His lips brushed her nose before he whispered, "Her uncle passed away."

"That's sad," she murmured, running her fingers through his hair. But her fear was greater. She didn't want to lose him. She didn't want distance to change them. "Don't leave me."

Stephen pulled her closer, his hand firm on her waist. "I never will."

He laid his head against her chest, listening to her heartbeat, breathing in her warmth. Roselle smiled, holding him tighter.

This—right here—was everything.